May-December
by thewriterwhocameinfromthecold
Summary: Keitaro had never given much thought to women beyond his promised girl, until a chance meeting on Christmas Eve changed his mind, and his life, forever. Multiple Pairings.
1. Part 1: Ritsuko, Ch 1 Lonely Christmas

Author Foreword and disclaimer: This story has been edited from the original version for content. The original is available at adult-fanfictiondotorg.

I do not own Love Hina or any of its associated characters. I am receiving no remuneration for these efforts.

I hope you enjoy.

* * *

_Will you turn towards me?_

_I am lonely too,_

_This Autumn evening._

- Matsuo Basho

It was Christmas, but there was no joy to be had in Keitaro Urashima's world. God and sinners might have been reconciled on this day of Peace on Earth and Good Will to Men, but someone must have forgotten to tell Motoko, who still hated his masculine guts – surprise, surprise – and Naru, who ran hot and cold so often he was beginning to wonder if it wasn't on purpose. Could anybody go through the kind of mood swings she seemed to experience and be as stable as she appeared? To make matters worse, he'd just failed his mock exam; the mock exam upon which his fate as a resident and manager of Hinata House depended.

As he strolled down the streets of Hinata, Keitaro stuffed the test results deeper into his coat pocket, as if crumpling it up in some dark place would change the numbers on the page. Every couple of blocks he would take the sheet out and look down at it. Yes, he had read it correctly, just as he had done the other thirty five times: he had failed. Granted, his percentage was an improvement from his previous failures, but as Keitaro well knew by this time you can't win for losing. There were no two ways about it: he'd have to leave Hinata. Even if others were inclined to be generous, Motoko would insist upon it.

Keitaro shivered against the cold and hiked up his coat collar. All around him families were getting last minute shopping done, buying gifts and Christmas cakes. At the end of the block, a Salvation Army band was playing _It Came Upon a Midnight Clear_. In front of the band sat the eponymous red kettle, manned by an older gentleman with smiling entreating eyes. Keitaro reached into his coat pocket, fished out a couple hundred Yen, and dropped it into the bucket. The old man nodded in thanks and Keitaro smiled as he stopped to listen to the band a while. Even if he didn't understand most of these Western carols, he found the music soothing.

He could always go home, he realised. There would be hot food and a warm bed back in Tokyo if he just knocked on the door and promised to give up on Tokyo University and joined the family firm. He might even be able to get back in his Mom and Dad's good graces without having to hear 'I told you so'. No, he couldn't give up. Not yet. Even if the girls kicked him out, he still had a promise to keep. He'd sleep on Shirai and Haitani's couch while he studied if necessary, but there was no way he'd surrender now. Not with the National Exams so close.

The band was playing _Silent Night_ when a salaryman nudged Keitaro as he passed, calling out a distracted apology as he jogged through the streets with a roast chicken under his arm. Keitaro's stomach growled as the scent reached his nose. Running away was not something best done on an empty stomach. He decided to find a restaurant somewhere. Everything would seem clearer with a full belly. He looked up above the band at the street sign to get his bearings. Once he'd oriented himself he ducked down a side street. According to his memory, there was a noodle house a few blocks down the road where he could grab a bite without breaking the bank. Besides, with snow threatening, it seemed like a good idea to get something that would stick to his ribs.

It was quieter away from the main drag. Most of the stores along this stretch were already shut or about to close for the night, but the sidewalks were still far from empty as Keitaro walked and hummed along with the band as they faded behind him. It seemed colder once the music was gone. Keitaro saw a couple huddling together as they walked, and felt envy burn through his veins. The girl, a tall willowy thing with hair down to her shoulders, giggled as the guy whispered something into her ear. Keitaro groaned and looked to over at the storefronts, determined to keep the display out of sight. As he looked over he realised that he was just passing the old Maehara Family Restaurant, Shinobu's former home.

Keitaro used to love the place before it had closed down. His stomach growled now as he recalled hours spent over hot tea, Chinese spare ribs, pan fried fish, and countless other delights that had made Maehara's a mainstay of his previous trips to Hinata. It was empty now. Even the tables and chairs had been carted away. They even took out the fish tank at the back, he noted as he peered through the window. He shook his head. Of course they took the fish tank. What were they going to go, leave the fish to fend for themselves?

He stepped back from the window and turned back towards the noodle house. He got about five steps before he felt a tap on his shoulder.

"Hey, Handsome," A woman said from behind. "Want to get some tea with me?"

Handsome? Him? Keitaro knew without turning that someone was playing a prank on him. He knew the story all too well from high school. First there was the girl's confession of love, then his tongue tied acceptance, and finally the laughter, the mockery, and on really horrible days the Dictaphone that had captured every word. Well, not this time. He turned slowly, crafting his gracious refusal in his mind. The words fled him, however, when he caught sight of the older woman who had approached him.

She looked to be in her early thirties, a little older than Haruka, with long brown hair held back by a ponytail. She had a winsome smile, but there was sadness behind her dark blue eyes. Keitaro had only seconds to see all this before the woman's smile morphed into a terror he didn't understand.

"I'm sorry," she said before he could even get a word in. "Forget it." She turned on her heel and started down the road.

Keitaro blinked as he watched the woman retreat. What had that been about? He knew he wasn't the most handsome guy on earth, but a woman had never run away from him before. It was almost as if she had recognised him. Yes, maybe that was it. There was something familiar about the woman, something about the eyes, but what was it? He turned back towards the restaurant scratching his head, when inspiration struck like a bolt from the blue.

"Mrs. Maehara?" he exclaimed in disbelief.

The woman froze in place, only to take off again at a faster clip.

"Mrs. Maehara? Wait up."

Sneakers had the advantage over high heels, and he caught up to her in a few strides. As he came alongside her, she held up her hand, as if to shield her face from his gaze.

"Mrs. Maehara?"

"Please," she said in a tight voice. "Just forget it. It was a mistake."

"Mistake? What are you doing out here?"

Her breath hitched a second. "Look, I'm sorry. Can't you just leave me alone?"

"But-"

"Just stop following me, all right?"

Then she seemed to wobble for a second and suddenly lurched away from him with a yelp.

"Look out," Keitaro called, leaning forward to try and catch the falling woman, but he was too late and she hit the pavement with a thud. "Are you all right?" he asked, but she just looked away.

"Damn it," she said under her breath, leaning over to inspect her boots.

Keitaro followed her hands to her right boot. The heel had bent, just hanging on to the sole of the shoe.

"Great." She slapped the boot in frustration. "Just great."

He held out his hand, but she ignored it, only to slip again as she tried to stand.

"Please," he said, offering his hand again. "Let me help you."

She stared at his hand a moment before taking it, and they pulled together until she was standing steady on the cold pavement. She covered her eyes as she leaned against a wall.

"What else can go wrong?" she asked through clenched teeth.

Keitaro knew better than to answer. Instead he said, "There's a coffee shop across the street. I think I can fix your shoe if you'll let me."

She said nothing, but looked down at her shoe. Then she looked up at him, and he saw her clearly for first time since she'd run off. Her eyes were watery and the smile on her face was tight, but she didn't seem to have any visible injuries. She nodded, and leaned on his shoulder as he helped her across the street.

"I always thought I'd be much older before younger men started helping me across the road," she said with a weak laugh, once they were inside the coffee shop.

Keitaro made no comment as he removed a roll of tape from his coat. "May I?"

"May you? Oh!" She removed the boot and handed it to him.

The heel had broken, but at least it hadn't snapped off. He wound the roll of tape around it several times until it stuck to the sole of the shoe. It wouldn't look pretty, but it would last long enough for her to take it in for repairs.

"Now, are _you_ all right?" he asked passing the boot back to her.

Mrs. Maehara proved to be like her daughter by wilting under his concerned gaze. "I'm fine," she mumbled into her shoulder.

"You didn't hurt anything when you fell?"

"Just my pride," she said, burying her face in her hands with a sigh. She looked up at him like she wished she could disappear, and Keitaro began to feel uncomfortable. He wasn't used to seeing such a look from an older woman. "Thank you," she said.

"It was nothing."

"Far from it," she said, testing the taped heel, pleased to discover that it held in place. "Where did you get the tape?"

Keitaro tapped the side of his glasses. "It comes in handy when a screw pops out or something." He stood up. "Well, I should get going."

"Wait."

"What is it?"

She looked down a moment, her eyes flickered between his face and the table top. "Let me thank you properly?" she asked.

Keitaro waved her off with a smile. "You don't have to do that. I'm just glad you're all right."

She grabbed his wrist. "Let me buy you dinner. It's the least I can do for you looking after Shinobu."

At the word 'dinner', Keitaro's stomach let loose a thunderous growl. Mortified, he turned to apologise, but stopped short when he realised that she was giggling into her fist. When she saw his terrified look, she only laughed harder; and he realised that this was the first time he had ever seen her relax. She actually looked quite pretty once the tension left her face.

"So, dinner?" she said.

Keitaro gave his stomach a wary look. "Dinner," he agreed.

* * *

Keitaro felt almost guilty as Mrs. Maehara poured the wine. When he'd agreed to dinner, he'd expected that they would head to the noodle house he'd been aiming for, or some place similar. Granted, the food at the small family restaurant they were sitting in wasn't exactly Haute Cuisine, but he hadn't expected her to order steak and red wine as soon as they sat down, either.

"It's the least I can do," she said, waving off his protests. "After all, it's Christmas."

"I'm not ungrateful," he replied, copying her as she began to swirl her glass. "But steak was more than I was expecting for a little bit of tape."

She shook her head. "Not just that." She set down her full glass and stared into it as she leaned on her hands. Once again, her eyes flickered between the table and his face, as if she were deciding something. "Those final weeks were hard on Shinobu," she said at last. "Her Dad had long since moved out. The only time she ever saw him, we argued."

Keitaro shifted in his seat. The vulnerability she was showing made him nervous, made him feel like he was walking in on something private. But she seemed to want this, so he just nodded.

"I thought moving away from that school would be best for her. You may have noticed Shinobu isn't the best at making friends. All we ever heard about was her being bullied. It never occurred to us that she might actually like it there." She looked at him with a small smile. "You know I really hated you for a while, Mr. Urashima."

Keitaro flinched.

She chuckled. "Yes. A week after she moved in, I came back to deliver her things."

Keitaro had a vague recollection of the day. He'd been out at cram school at the time; but when he'd returned, Kitsune had already kicked off an official welcome party for Shinobu.

Mrs. Maehara was swirling the glass on the table now, her eyes following the wine as it spun in the glass. "When my little girl came to the door, she had such a huge smile on her face. And, as she took me around to the kitchen and to show me her new room, I realised how long it had been since I'd seen her smile that way." She slouched back in her chair, looking up at some far off point. "God," she said as if the whole thing was a bad joke, "how I hated you for that smile."

Keitaro's stomach was making leaps and bounds inside him. People didn't bare their souls to him, it just didn't happen. In the end he said the only thing he could think of, "Shinobu has a picture on her bedside table."

"What?"

"Of all three of you. You're standing in front of some kind of merry-go-round."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Really?"

"Yes. She thinks about you all the time. She might be living with us, but we all know that we'll never replace you. You're her mother, and she'll never love any of us the way she loves you."

Mrs. Maehara's eyes began to glisten. "At her bedside," she whispered. The food arrived. "Well," she said, clearing her throat, "Might as well dig in." She raised her glass. "To happier days."

Keitaro returned the toast and sipped his wine. He knew nothing about it, but the deep dark flavour seemed to go with his evening as he set down his glass and cut into his steak. He gave a happy hum as he chewed.

"Thank you for the meal, Mrs. Maehara."

"Not Maehara," she said without looking up from her food. "It's not my name anymore."

He winced. "I'm sorry, I should have realised. What _is_ your name?"

She chewed a bite for a while, then said, "Since you're looking after my daughter as you are, perhaps you could call me Ritsuko?"

Though it felt far too familiar, he obliged. "Well, then, thank you Ritsuko."

Then she gave him such a sunny smile he couldn't help but smile back as he returned to his food. The wine helped him get over his nerves, and they discussed Shinobu. When the bottle was empty, Keitaro found his eyes being drawn to a spot on Ritsuko's neck. It was the spot where her fingers came to rest for just a moment after she pushed her bangs to the side. When they were ordering dessert, Keitaro began to wonder what it would be like push those bangs away for her. He shook himself.

"Something the matter?" she asked.

"Little too much wine, that's all."

"How about walk? It'll help."

Keitaro nodded and tore his eyes from his companion as she signalled the waiter. It felt strange to see Shinobu's blue eyes reflected in another woman. Less innocent, but also less frightened. It was like seeing a small portrait of the woman Shinobu might become. Though, Keitaro hoped it wouldn't be so. He hoped he never saw the day where the little chef's bright blues became so dull with the fatigue of living. Eyes like that were made for smiling. Keitaro shook himself again. The wine was making him melancholy.

As they left the restaurant together, Keitaro held the door for a husband, wife, and their young daughter. As the door swung shut behind him, he could hear the father laugh at something the daughter was saying. Ritsuko turned right and he fell into step, casting one last glance back at the restaurant.

"I used to love Christmas, you know."

"I'm sorry?"

Keitaro turned toward his companion. "I was just saying I used to love Christmas."

Ritsuko blinked. "Used to? Why, what happened?"

Keitaro sighed and watched his breath rise above him in the cold air. To tell or not to tell?

"My parents own a confectionary in Tokyo. It's always busy this time of year. I guess I just miss them now that I'm not living there."

"So why not visit them?"

"Because I can't. It's complicated."

Ritsuko frowned. "But what about your tenants at Hinata?" she said a moment later. "Why aren't you celebrating with them? Surely you've got better things to do than keep an old woman company."

Keitaro laughed – in part at the ridiculous notion of Ritsuko being old; and the other part… "My tenants have made their opinion of me quite clear."

"Now that sounds like it has a story attached."

"Several of the girls don't care much for the fact that I'm a man managing a girls' dorm. They call me a pervert, accuse me of things I haven't done." He looked up at the stars. "I don't blame them much though," he confessed to the night sky. "I'm not very reliable or very smart, and I do walk in on them, even if I don't mean to."

"Perhaps," Ritsuko said, touching his arm, "you should stop telling me all this before I decide to remove Shinobu for her own good." She smiled to let him know she was joking, and then her expression sobered. "You sound lonely."

Keitaro considered this. He'd often associated loneliness with being alone. It was easy as he'd had plenty of both growing up. But now that he was living at Hinata, he was rarely alone. Still…

"Can you feel lonely in a crowd?"

"Yes," Ritsuko's reply was immediate. She stopped walking and looked across the street at the closed storefronts. "Sometimes I think crowds are the loneliest situations of all. At least when you're alone, you know why you're lonely." She pinched the bridge of her nose. "Wow, sorry. This is why I don't drink much."

"No, I understand."

He did. The first month at Hinata – when they had been trying to drive him out – had been the toughest of his life. Sitting up in his room with his cup noodles, listening to the others down in the dining room laugh and have a good time had felt as if he were watching some happy scene through a pane of glass. As this occurred to him, he looked over and realised that Ritsuko was speaking.

"I'm sorry," he said, "I was thinking of something else."

Ritsuko brushed her bangs aside – that same maddening gesture. "I was saying that I think you're selling yourself short. My daughter may not be good at making friends, but she's a good judge of character. She'd have never stood up to me and decided to stay at Hinata if she didn't think that you were a person she could trust."

"But what about what the others said?"

For the first time since he'd met her, she smirked. Keitaro flinched. So knowing an expression didn't suit her; didn't suit her eyes; Shinobu's eyes.

"Want a tip?" she said. "Don't ever become a salesman. You'll starve. Those girls don't know what they're talking about." A bitter look crossed her face. "I've known men who couldn't be trusted. You're not one of those types."

"How can you be so sure?"

She grabbed his shoulder and pushed until he was facing her. "Want to know how I know?"

Keitaro nodded.

"Because I hit on you and took you to dinner and you haven't tried to push your luck all evening. To be honest I've never felt safer."

Prickles of embarrassment coursed through Keitaro. Praise wasn't something he got often. "Well, thanks I guess." He waited for her to let go of his shoulder.

She didn't. Instead she shuffled closer and looked up as she took a deep breath.

"You know," she said, licking her lips, "if you came back…" The words stuck in her throat but she forced them out. "If you came back to my apartment with me, I bet I could feel really safe with you."

Keitaro's eyes narrowed in incomprehension. "Go back and…" His eyebrows shot up. "But…" He never completed the sentence as Ritsuko seized her opportunity by closing the distance between them and swallowing his protests with a kiss.

His first kiss; the realisation made him squeak. Ritsuko must have thought he was resisting, because she wrapped her arms around his back and pitched forward until she was leaning against him. She was all but gasping as her lips clung to his in desperation. Keitaro moaned as her tongue rasped over his bottom lip. He'd thought often about this moment, how and with whom; but his fantasies were pale imitations held against this woman and her sweet lips. When she pulled back, they were both panting. Her eyes, almost black in the light of the streetlamps, bored into his, asking, begging.

He nodded. She almost seemed to deflate in relief as her swollen lips curled into a smile. Her arm was still wrapped around his as she turned to hail a passing cab.

Keitaro's body hummed with electricity the entire cab ride. He sat stock still, staring straight ahead. He had no idea what to do. He yearned for another kiss, but the cabbie's nonchalant eyes in the rear view mirror were chastisement enough to keep him from making a move. Ritsuko also seemed unwilling to take things further. She played with the hem of her coat, giving Keitaro and the cabbie furtive glances. For a moment, Keitaro wondered whether or not she might have been regretting it. Certainly, he felt very confused about his own feelings. Even if Naru was angry at him; even if they weren't dating, he still cared about her. Wasn't going off with another woman in the night a betrayal? Shinobu's mother no less! This couldn't be right, could it? No. He had to speak up. He had to tell her that he was flattered, but that he couldn't go any further. She'd just have to drop him off and they'd forget the whole thing. They'd…What was she doing?

Ritsuko's hand ghosted over his shoulder and came to rest on the back of his head. Her fingers traced meaningless little patterns through his hair as she leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. She ran the toe of her boot up and down his lower leg.

"It's okay," she said.

Keitaro shuddered. No it was not okay. If she kept that up, he wouldn't have the strength to tell her that he had to leave. He ought to push her off or at least lean away. His hand came up, reaching for her hand tangled in his hair. He just had to push her away; but against his will, his hand found hers and caressed the back of it. She laced her fingers with his and ran her thumb lovingly over his hand. Damn it. He was already trapped, wasn't he?

"We're here," she said a moment later as the cab pulled over in front of a two storey apartment building.

She handed the cabbie a few bills and told him to keep the change. Then they were out of the car, walking towards the stairs. She kept firm hold of his arm until they were at the top of the stairs. She turned to him with a pleading looking in her eyes; and he realised that he wasn't the only one who wasn't sure.

Motoko was right, he thought as he leaned in to kiss her, he was a man after all.

They stumbled down the walkway as they clung to each other, pulling apart again only as long as it took for Ritsuko to fish her keys out of her purse and unlock the door. The keys clattered to the foyer floor, and Keitaro kicked the door shut behind him, groaning as Ritsuko thrust her tongue into his mouth and slipped her hand under the hem of his sweater. The warmth of her palm shocked Keitaro as it followed a lazy course north over his stomach and ribs to caress his breast. Keitaro had no idea what he ought to do, but contented himself with rubbing circles over her back as they staggered across the room together. This was really happening. He was really in a woman's apartment, really kissing her, really making a slow shuffling journey to her bed.

Just then, she pulled away with a groan. "We need to stop."

Cold water came crashing down on Keitaro's ardour. How could this happen? What had he done wrong?

She must have read it in his eyes, because panic flashed across her face and she tightened her grip on his arms. "No, Keitaro, I don't mean like that." She gave him a quick peck and rested her forehead against his. "I meant we should take our shoes off, and maybe I should change into something more comfortable." She kissed him. "Would you like that?"

He had no idea what she meant, but she seemed to want him to want it as much as she did.

"Okay."

She smiled and pecked his lips once more before leading him to the couch.

"You wait right here." Then she went into bedroom and shut the door behind her.

Between the wine and arousal, Keitaro felt like his veins were buzzing. Part of him wanted to run out the door, and part of him wanted to run in after her. What was taking so long? He growled and forced himself to look away from the door. He got up and stripped off his sweater. Was the apartment hot or him? He smoothed out his hair and paced, humming snatches of _Joy to World_ to distract himself from the red blooded and willing woman on the other side of the door.

He was on the third verse when Ritsuko emerged from the bedroom, wearing a baby blue nightgown. She'd brushed out her hair so that it hung loose about her shoulders, and put on a fresh coat of lipstick.

She was older than him by at least ten years, but they both regarded each other with the same nervous apprehension and arousal.

Keitaro swallowed. "You look beautiful."

She smiled. "Thank you." She looked around the room, shuffling closer to him. "Did you want a drink?"

Keitaro shuffled towards her too. "No, not unless you do."

"No."

They were almost at arm's length.

"Good."

She grabbed of his wrists and pulled him into the bedroom. She spun him around and pushed him back onto the bed. Giggling at his surprised yelp, she straddled his chest and brought his hand up to her face. She smiled down at him as she leaned into his palm.

"I've missed this," she murmured.

* * *

They lay together in silence. He placed kisses along her shoulder while she ran her hands over his back.

"You should go back home," she said after a long time.

"You're not trying to get rid of me are you?" he asked, only half joking.

She shook her head. "If I could, I'd keep you until morning, but your tenants are probably worried about you."

Keitaro hoped she was right, but had no desire to leave her warmth to gamble on the whims of his tenants. "What about you?"

She gave him a quick kiss. "You're sweet. Don't worry. You've done more than enough for me."

Keitaro reluctantly tore himself away and climbed out of bed in search of his clothes.

Once he was dressed he looked down at her, uncertain what to do. What did you say in this situation?

She propped herself up in bed. "If you wanted," she cleared her throat, "If you wanted we could do this again."

Keitaro had to keep himself from leaping. "Really?"

She chuckled. "Yes." She grabbed a pen and paper off the nightstand and scribbled an address and phone number. "Call me soon."

She stood up, looking like a Diana or a Venus wrapped in her bed sheet. When he took the paper, she gave him a long kiss.

"You'd better get out of here before I change my mind," she said.

That sounded like incentive to stay to Keitaro, but he turned and headed for the door. In the doorway, he stopped and turned.

"Merry Christmas, Ritsuko."

"Thank, Keitaro. Merry Christmas to you too. Keitaro?"

"Yes?"

"Let's both try to have a better year next year. We deserve it."


	2. Part 1: Ritsuko, Ch 2 Double Life

It was around ten o'clock by the time Keitaro trudged up the steps to Hinata House, somehow feeling warmer. As he crested the stairs, he saw that the lights were on. Good. If they were still up, then they could get the logistics of his departure over without much fuss. He just hoped they'd let him stay the night before he packed up and left for good.

"There you are!" Kitsune stepped outside through the front door with her hands on her hips. "Just where have you been?"

Keitaro gave her dumb stare, feeling like a teenager caught coming home past curfew.

Kitsune clucked her tongue. "Never mind," she said, seizing his arm. "We've been worried sick about you."

Why was that, he wondered. Was she worried that her meal ticket might have gone?

"Keitaro!"

The cry rent the hallway as soon as he stepped into its warmth. Keitaro yelped as Su leapt from nowhere onto his shoulders. Shinobu ran from the kitchen, looking like she wanted to hug him. Her eyes, that same anguished shade of blue, made his innards twist.

"Keitaro is all cold!" Su exclaimed leaping off his shoulders.

Shinobu's face contorted in alarm as she ran to the kitchen to make tea.

"Here, Urashima." Motoko stood in the living room doorway with her usual implacable expression and a blanket in hand. The act of charity seemed so out of place that he nearly fell over; but, recognising its rarity, he accepted the blanket with a nod and wrapped it around his shoulders.

"Where's Naru?"

Kitsune shrugged. "She's still out looking. We called everyone we could think of when we realised you were gone, and then she ran off to search for you."

"It was irresponsible for you to leave without telling anyone, Urashima." Motoko's tone was one of chiding, rather than anger: another first for her. Could it be he'd misjudged?

"You were worried about me?"

Kitsune bopped him over the head. "Of course, you big lug. Do you have any idea how long it took to talk Shinobu out of calling the police? Where were you?"

Police? Keitaro felt sick as he bowed his head to hide his guilty flush. He had betrayed Shinobu twice, first for her mother and second for making her worry.

Then the front door swung open and Naru trudged in, shivering from the cold. She removed her coat without saying a word. As she went to hand it up, she turned and froze as her eyes alighted on Keitaro. She dropped the coat and stood staring.

Keitaro swallowed. "Hello."

"I'll give you 'hello'," Naru snarled, lunging for him. She punched him in the chest, again and again; but these weren't the usual Naru punches, just simple angry jabs. "You. Complete. Asshole! Do you have any idea how sick I've been? When I didn't find you at Tokyo U, I thought…I thought." Her shoulders sagged, like those light little hits took the last energy she had. "Asshole."

Keitaro stared at her. She _had_ been worried; worried enough to go looking for him, enough to travel all the way to Tokyo U for him. "I…I'm sorry."

"Look, why don't we sit down?" Kitsune suggested and ushered people into the dining room. "Shinobu," she called, "is it ready yet?"

"Yes." Shinobu appeared with a tea tray and laid it on the table. A second later she came back with a plate of food and laid it before Keitaro.

Keitaro looked down at the simple dish of chicken and vegetables. "You saved dinner for me?"

"Of course," she replied as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Keitaro looked at each one of his tenants. For the first time since his arrival, every single one of them was looking at him, not in scorn or derision, but concern. He swallowed a lump in his throat and prayed to keep from crying. His hand shook before the chopsticks. He didn't deserve Shinobu's food, or her worried eyes, or her kind smiles. If the world were just, her expression would have made Motoko blanch as she ran him out of Hinata on a rail.

"Please eat." Shinobu said with those damned imploring eyes of hers. Keitaro fought for resolve. There would be time for self-flagellation later. If he didn't eat, they'd only get suspicious or, worse, even more worried.

"So why'd you run off?" Kitsune asked as he picked up the chopsticks. "Because of this?" She held up his test sheet.

Keitaro jumped. It seemed that the world was just after all. Punishment was on its way. "Where did you get that?"

Kitsune snorted. "Oh, don't act like it's the first time I've picked your pocket. You thought we were going to kick you out over this?"

Keitaro looked at each of the girls. "Well, yeah. That's what we agreed."

Kitsune also turned to each girl in turn and nodded. Then she held up the sheet and tore it in two. "Merry Christmas," she told him. "Now eat up. Hey now, don't cry."

Keitaro swiped at his eyes. Why, after all those months of hating him for his innocent mistakes, were they being so nice to him now that he'd committed his first willing betrayal? They ought to take turns launching him into oblivion until there was nothing left to launch. He ought to tell them, so they could get started; but as he ate Shinobu's good simple food under eyes all radiating sympathy for the first time since first seeing him, he found he couldn't expose himself. The truth would only mean despair for them and death for him. Besides, was it really so criminal? He had gone to bed with a beautiful woman who had wanted him as much as he had wanted her. The fact that she was the mother of one of his tenants hadn't even entered into it. Besides, it was one time. If he never saw her again, then that would put an end to the whole thing.

So resolved he ate his dinner and went upstairs to his private tub. Downstairs, Kitsune was rallying the others for the Christmas party. It would be Keitaro's first ever. He fished out the scrap of paper with Ritsuko's number and address and dropped in the waste bin. There was the end of it. He pulled off his shirt. If he just stayed on the straight and narrow, life at Hinata would get better. He dropped the shirt in the laundry basket and looked in the mirror. He flinched as he saw the angry red hickey on his shoulder. That's right, Ritsuko had bitten him there. His hand came up to cover it. He'd just have to put it from his mind. Easily said, but as his fingers traced the bruise and he felt himself grow hard at the memory, his eyes travelled to the waste bin. It was already too late.

* * *

They met again the day after New Years, then the weekend after that, and the one after that. It was easy enough to fabricate an excuse.

* * *

"I'll see you later Naru," he said as they disembarked from the train home from cram school. "Tell Shinobu to save a plate for me."

"Art club?" she asked.

He nodded. As far as everyone at Hinata was concerned, he had joined an art circle that met once at the end of the week to draw together. All that the lie required of him in corroboration was a little extra work in his sketchbook.

Naru bit her lip. Then she spotted a vending machine. "Got time for a coffee?"

Keitaro checked his watch. Ritsuko wouldn't expect him for a little while. "Sure."

"You've been drawing a lot lately." Naru said, fixed him with a critical look as she handed him a can of green tea. "Aren't you worried it'll affect your grades?"

Keitaro shrugged. He had anticipated that question. "Has it? Personally, I think it relaxes me."

Naru thought for a moment. "I won't deny you're not as wrong as often."

It was true; his grades did seem to be improving. She wasn't sure if he was good enough for Tokyo U, but improvement was improvement. Not only his grades, but he seemed less accident prone, and he'd finally stopped goggling at her every time she bent over. When was the last time she'd had to his him anyway?

She yawned. "Yikes. Maybe I should consider a hobby too."

At this Keitaro's mind conjured up the image of Naru naked on a rug, writhing beneath another man. He suppressed a forbidden shudder.

"Can I ask you something?" he said, groping for a change of subject.

"Shoot."

"Is Motoko all right? She seems to be…" He searched for the right word, but came up empty.

Naru considered the question. Without all the usual incidences of perversion, Motoko seemed almost depressed by their absence, as if bereft of some private ritual. On the positive side, it seemed that scales had fallen from her eyes. She remained ever watchful of the manager she had accepted with reluctance, less in suspicion now than curiosity.

"You mean how she watches you?"

Keitaro nodded.

Naru pursed her lips as she composed her answer. "Well, you haven't pulled Shinobu's skirt down in a while."

"Gee, thanks. Ouch!"

"That was a compliment, lug head. Anyway, I think Motoko hasn't been around boys much, so maybe now that you've stopped screwing up as much-"

"You're sure these are compliments? Ow!"

"Shut up! I'm saying maybe it's an opportunity for her to…I don't know, observe you in your natural state."

Keitaro laughed. "You make me sound like a wildebeest at the zoo."

Naru smirked. "Name one part of life at Hinata House that isn't like living in a zoo."

"Touché." Keitaro swallowed the last of his tea and looked at his watch. "I'd better go." He jogged towards the station exit, but turned after few strides. "Hey, let me know what you decide."

"About what?" Naru asked.

"Your hobby. You study more than anyone I know. If anyone deserves a little fun, it's you."

With that he was off only to trip over a stack of newspapers. Naru giggled to herself as he made profuse apology to the irate news agent and began gathering up the scattered papers. He might have become better behaved, but for him to cease being clumsy altogether was too much even for her to bear. He might have been cuter when she didn't have to worry about him being a pervert, but Keitaro without accidents wouldn't be Keitaro; and what fun would that be?

* * *

Keitaro knocked on Ritsuko's door. How would things go this time? No two meetings had been alike. Sometimes they had dinner before, others just coffee. Most of the time she met him at the door in her work clothes, but last time she'd been wearing that nightgown from Christmas. He never knew what to expect. That was part of the fun. Certainly, they'd both gotten more comfortable. The day after New Years, they'd had dinner and then she'd looked like she wanted to end things there. So he offered to help her wash the dishes, and that little extra time was enough to soothe her nerves. Now she smiled when he showed up on her door rather than the guilty looks of nights gone by. Even if he still felt a little guilty. Was it right to do this behind everyone's backs? What about his promise girl, had he betrayed her? Granted, she wasn't married and he had no girlfriend to cheat on, but…

As he wondered this Ritsuko opened the door, and as usual all thoughts of moral quandaries ceased. She was wearing a black bathrobe cinched tight to accentuate her curves. She tossed her brushed out hair over her shoulders and grinned.

"Where have you been?" she asked, stepping aside. "I've been thinking about you all day."

She didn't wait for an explanation, but kissed him hard as she kicked the door shut. Keitaro's hands came up to caress her back as his tongue duelled with hers. Then he kissed his way down, over her chin and her ear down to her neck. Ritsuko moaned and arched to give him better access.

"Bedroom," she said, already reaching for his belt.

Keitaro would have nodded were he not busy sucking on her collar bone. He didn't know where all this enthusiasm had come from, but he really liked it. They danced together towards her bedroom as he kept up his attack on her slender throat and she fiddled with the button of his jeans. Keitaro kicked the jeans away when they fell, and groaned into Ritsuko's mouth when her hand snaked under the waistband of his shorts to fondle his growing cock. She jerked him off slowly as they stumbled through the open door to her bedroom. His hands came round to cup her breast and he realised she wasn't wearing a bra. Following his suspicion, he trailed his hand down the lower opening of her robe and thrust it inside to find nothing but her warm, slick, bare pussy. He brushed her clit with his thumb and she squeaked. She withdrew and pushed against his shoulders until he was sitting on the bed. She brought his hand up to the sash. The robe parted when he untied it, and she stood smiling, hands on hips.

"You like?"

Keitaro swallowed and nodded. He reached up to touch her stomach, but she stopped him

"Not yet." When he looked at her in confusion a shy smile crossed her face. "There's something I want to try."

"What?"

In answer, she pulled down his shorts, nudged his legs apart, and came to her knees. Her passion darkened eyes fixed upon his red throbbing cock as she licked her lips.

"I never did this with my husband. I don't know how well I'll do."

* * *

Lying with her afterwards was almost as good as the sex itself. Once she was taken away from the cares of her world, the pinched, worried expression would fall away; and she became someone else: more open, more curious, more playful.

"What is it with men and boobs, anyway?" she asked, snuggling into his chest.

"Well," Keitaro began, very much aware of a certain pair pressed against his side. "They're soft and inviting. They make a convenient target within reach." He chuckled. "There are many ways to play with them, and women enjoy having them played with. What's not to like, really?"

"Sure, but they're all guys seem to look at. You'd think a woman was nothing but her tits. We do have more to offer."

"I agree." He reached between her legs to rub her mound.

She smacked him on the arm. "Cheater."

"I can't help it. I've got a lot pent up."

"Oh, really?"

"You try living surrounded by the opposite sex all the time. It tends to cause frustration."

"Need I remind you my daughter is one of those 'opposite sex'?"

"Well, I didn't mean her." Shinobu was what, fourteen? Not a chance.

"Oh, so you don't think my daughter is pretty?"

"What? No, I…" He trailed off when he realised she was snickering into her fist. "That's not fair."

"But you make it so easy. No wonder that Mitsune girl manages to drive you crazy."

Yes, while Naru and Motoko had grown less reactionary, Kitsune was still her mischievous self. Keitaro's nights with Ritsuko might have inured him to Naru's innocent flashes of skin, but Kitsune knew just what buttons to push; and push them she did: for rent money, to get him in trouble, or just to see him squirm.

"You'll never get her respect if you turn into a school boy every time she wears a tight pair of jeans."

"Easier said than done." He checked the clock at the bedside. "I'd better head back."

Once he was dressed she led him to the door and kissed him goodbye. They never said anything else, never made arrangements for the next meeting. They both knew he'd be back next week and she'd be waiting.


	3. Part 1: Ritsuko, Ch 3 Ups and Downs

"I can't wait any longer," Keitaro whined. "Let's just look already."

"We decided we'd check our answers when we got home," Naru said, "and that's what we're going to do. Besides we're only one stop away from town anyway."

Keitaro leaned forward in his seat to scratch compulsively at his pant legs. "The tension's killing me. I've got to know."

"Patience is a virtue."

Was that a smirk? She was enjoying his squirming, he'd swear to it.

"Easy for you to say; you're number one in the nation. You screw up you've still got a chance. I screw up and it's another year as a ronin."

"You think it's that easy?"

Uh oh, she sounded mad. He made the unwilling turn to face her glare.

"You think its easy being on top?" She leaned right into his face. "Do you have any idea how hard it is to be perfect all the time, to hear people talk about how hard a worker you are, and know that you haven't had a hobby in years; haven't spoken to your friends in months? Don't talk to me about easy." She got up from her seat and stood in front of the door.

Keitaro knew better than to close the gap. Guilt hung on his shoulders the whole walk home as he maintained the requisite five paces behind. He should have known better than to feel sorry for himself in front of her. Naru was a decent teacher, but she expected reciprocity. If she could make it through all of this without complaining, she expected the same of him. Then again, she didn't know the humiliation of failing twice already. He could complain if he wanted.

Sometimes, he wondered if being punched less was a curse rather than blessing. Anger and fists were easier to deal with than hurt feelings; and there were days where he'd have welcomed a trip to the moon over cold glares like the one she'd given him a moment ago. How long would it take to fix this one?

Deciding that there was no time like the present, he called, "I'm sorry."

Naru said nothing, but kept on walking. After a while he wondered if she'd even heard him, but then she turned her head and called out, "Hurry up already. If we're checking these together, I'm not waiting all day for you."

Recognising an olive branch when he saw it, Keitaro jogged the distance between them.

"You really haven't spoken to your friends in that long?" he dared ask.

She shook her head. He remained silent the rest of the way home. What could he say to that?

* * *

"What are Naru and Mr. Manager doing?" Su asked, peaking at them through the kitchen door.

"They're adding up their centre test scores," Kitsune said, pulling the gregarious foreigner away. "It's to determine whether or not they've achieved the scores that'll allow them to take the Tokyo U exam in a few months."

"Then what is Motoko doing?" Su pointed out the window towards Motoko in the robes of a Miko, waving an Onusa wand over a ritual fire.

"Trying to help…?" Kitsune guessed. Deciding this was far more interesting than watching the others grade their tests, Kitsune ventured outside with Shinobu and Su in tow.

"Pretty," Shinobu exhaled.

As Kitsune watched, she could do naught but nod. Motoko looked as though she belonged before that fire in the snow white gi and red hakama. Perspiration glistened on her face as she swung the wand with all her might uttering fervent chants of invocation that the Gods pause in their business and deign to hear the plaintive words of their servants. Kitsune (ordinarily too earthy for spiritual concerns) almost felt as though she were intruding. For her, this was a new side to Motoko; a side without a sword at the ready. What had brought it out?

When Motoko finished her ritual with a clap, the others followed suit.

'Please,' Kitsune thought, but the thought ended there. No specific request, just one please to cover all sorts: please let me get published, please let me pick winning horses, please help me drink less, please let me find love, please help me forgive. She let the thought go and gave Motoko an appreciative look.

"Where did you get that uniform?"

"I volunteer at a shrine in town."

One well placed word about how she looked would be enough to send the kendo girl into paroxysms of embarrassment. Dry remarks crowded Kitsune's clever brain like ants on a sugar cube, but the moment begged her silence; and so all she said was, "It suits you." Then after a pause, she asked, "What made you decide to perform the ritual?"

Motoko wiped the sweat from her brow. "I cannot do much, but I thought it might bring them fortune."

Kitsune was about to comment on Motoko's use of the plural, when a joyous shout came from inside the house. They raced into the kitchen to find Keitaro and Naru cheering, their fists raised in triumph.

"I did it!" Keitaro cried, staring down at his test as if it held the secret of the world. "With scores like these, I might actually make into to Tokyo U!"

"Me too!" Naru said. "This thing's in the bag!"

Keitaro seized Naru and spun her around the room. "Thank you, Naru! I owe you everything!"

Kitsune cringed, certain that another launch was due at Cape Hinata, but it never came. Naru was too caught up in her own celebration, laughing out loud. Then Keitaro let her down, their eyes met and they sprang apart.

"Well…" Keitaro coughed, looking down at his shoes. "Thanks for all your help."

"Don't mention it," Naru replied, playing with a strand of hair as she subjected the kitchen cabinets to studious examination.

"You know what this means?" Kitsune asked, biting back a snicker. "Party time! Let's celebrate!"

* * *

Kitsune stumbled, her hands shooting out to brush the paving stones. "One more round!" she called.

Keitaro and Naru shared a look, both glad they'd had the foresight to ask Motoko to take the younger girls home early. They rushed forward to brace Kitsune as she wobbled on the curb.

Kitsune laughed as both propped themselves under her. "Don't worry. I can hold it."

"Is…" Keitaro, a few pints further along than he himself had intended, tried to shake the fog loose. "She seems a little…"

Naru giggled. "You don't say."

"No I suppose I don't."

The three friends giggled as they staggered down the moonlit street.

"Ah, this is what the night is for!" Kitsune proclaimed. "Hey, who wants to do karaoke?"

"Maybe next time," Naru said. "Right now, I think we should go to bed."

Kitsune cackled. "Wow Naru, I never knew you were that kind of girl. You'll soil our dear manager's virgin ears."

Between virgin ears and Naru's sputtering denials, Keitaro began to giggle, until Kitsune turned her sights on him.

"Don't worry, Mr. Manager," Kitsune slurred, her head lolling against his. "If you want, I'll take your V card for you."

"Kitsune!" Naru shot her friend a scandalised look, which only made her laugh harder.

Keitaro bit his cheek. He wouldn't react, not this time. If he said anything, Naru would kill him and Kitsune would hold it over him for a week.

"What are you getting all bent out of shape about?" Kitsune asked. "You're the one who wanted to fu…fu…have a threeway with him."

Keitaro stifled a groan as he imagined Naru and Kitsune lying on top of each other, shrieking in ecstasy as he pounded into both in turn.

"I do not!" Naru shouted.

"Why not?" Kitsune leaned into Naru. "Aren't I cute enough for you? Or is it our manager?"

Naru cracked her knuckles. Keitaro didn't blame her, Kitsune was straining her credit.

Kitsune snorted. "More for me, then. What say you, Mr. Manager? Ready to become a man?"

'Steady,' Keitaro told himself. 'Get home, jerk off, and go to bed: simple.'

"If it's all the same," he said, "I think I'll just take a quick bath and then turn in."

"Bath? Good idea." She leaned in and asked in a stage whisper, "Want me to scrub your back?"

The words were out before he could stop them: "Only if I can scrub your front."

In the end, Keitaro decided as he reached escape velocity, it was worth it to see Kitsune sport such a pretty blush all the way down to her neck.

* * *

Ritsuko gestured. "Come in."

Keitaro blinked. No kiss, no hello, not even a smile. Something was wrong. He slipped off his shoes and walked into the living room. He waited for her to sit him down, offer him something, or break the ice in some way; but she said nothing, just walked into the kitchen with her back to him, busying herself with something in the sink. She was wearing a grey sweater and a pair of jeans that seemed to be a shield to Keitaro. Perhaps she wasn't in the mood tonight. He shrugged, determined to make the most of it and maybe get to the bottom of whatever was going on.

"How are things?" he ventured.

"Fine."

'Fine', the stony lie known to men everywhere as a signal of immediate and unknown danger; Keitaro included. He shifted from one foot from the other, hoping she would add something to that response.

When she didn't, he said, "I got my Centre Test results back. I might actually have what it takes to make it into Tokyo U, this year."

Ritsuko's hands stilled. "Congratulations."

That didn't sound very convincing. God, he wished she'd look at him.

"Yeah," he went on for the sake of talking, "Naru's been a lifesaver these last few months. If it wasn't for her, I wouldn't have had a hope of passing that exam."

"Oh, really?" If possible, Ritsuko's voice turned even frostier. "A 'lifesaver', huh?"

Keitaro flinched. Okay, don't mention Naru. "Uh, yeah. Anyway, I…" He searched for another topic, but nothing came to him. He wrapped his arms around himself. Why did it feel like something was about to come crashing down on him? "Ritsuko? Are you sure…"

"I said I'm fine!" Ritsuko shouted, rounding on him.

Hurt lanced through Keitaro as she stalked towards him and ripped off her sweater.

"Might as well get to it," she said gesturing to her bra. "It's what you're here for, isn't it? Well, come on!"

Keitaro's mouth worked as he stared frozen in place. "Why are you acting this way? What's wrong?"

"Nothing. Now are we going to do this or not?" She laughed bitter as gall. "I mean that's what this is about, isn't it? What? Not in the mood?" She growled. "What good are you, then?" She turned from him with an angry dismissive flick of the wrist. "Just forget it."

Keitaro felt his eyes begin to sting with the film of tears. How the hell had they gotten here? "Ritsuko, whatever I've done…"

"Just get out!"

Keitaro's hands shook as he adjusted his glasses, the damned stinging was making it hard to see. He swallowed the thick lump in his throat.

"All right," he said, "I'll go." and did without another word or backward glance.

She caught up to him at the train station. He didn't know how, but once he walked through the station doors, he saw her standing there, eyes trained on the front door looking for him. Figuring there was no way he could get past her, he walked up to her, forcing his face to remain neutral. Shamefaced, she avoided his eyes as he stood there waiting. All around them, evening commuters milled about from gate to gate, but he saw only her. He wanted to yell, to scream at her for her what she'd said, but she looked so pathetic that his heart went out to her.

"Come on," he told her. "I'll take you back."

They said nothing on the cab ride back to her apartment, nothing until they were inside. Once the door was shut and they were away from the world, she hugged him to her, burying her face in his shoulder.

"Thank God I found you."

"Shush," he soothed, patting her on the back. "It's all right."

"I'm sorry. I just…It's so quiet here, and then you come, and then you go, and I…" She clutched him tighter. "You shouldn't even be with an old slut like me."

Indignation exploded within, gnashed his teeth, clenched his fists. "Don't…" He seized her shoulders. "Don't ever say that!" he shouted right in her face. "Not ever!"

"Keitaro, please, you're hurting me."

The rage drained away as he saw the fear in her eyes and realised how tight his grip was. "I'm sorry," he said, letting her go. "It's just what you said."

She smiled at him. "You're sweet," she said and kissed him.

Keitaro groaned as she coaxed his tongue into her mouth and sucked on it.

All too soon, she released his lips and leaned up to whisper, "Make me feel good. Please?"

Without letting go of her, Keitaro led her to the couch, sat her down and knelt before her.

"Here?"

He nodded reaching up to undo her jeans. He slid them down her legs along with her panties and leaned in to give her pussy a kiss. He thrust his fingers into her until his hand was soaking and her mouth was opening and closing with silent screams. He undid his pants and pulled her on top of him. They held each other's gaze the entire time she rode him, staring deep into each other until he came with her name on his lips.

* * *

Keitaro, like most of the perpetually single, came to his hatred of Valentines Day naturally. One could only endure so many years of being forced to watch from a lonely perch the scenes played out annually at high schools across the world by moonstruck couples before resentment became a well-known and regarded companion. On the fateful day, he dragged himself from his futon and went through his usual morning rituals with a grim determination to get through the day in as quick and stoic a manner as possible. If necessary, he'd resort to his tried and true trick of making Valentines Day chocolate for himself to throw people off the scent. Having confectioners for parents had its advantages. He pulled on a grey sweater and black pants: bland, funereal colours that would allow him to disappear for the rest of the day and hide away from the couples clinging to each other. If only Ritsuko were available today. Perhaps, he ought to send some flowers to her on White Day. She might like that.

Keitaro considered the problem as he made his way downstairs to breakfast. What did one get for…What were they? He wasn't in love with Ritsuko and he had no illusions about her being in love with him. He couldn't bring himself to call it dating either: a few shared dinners were not enough to take away from the fact that their main connection lay in their mutual desire for each other's bodies. No, it was more than that, he was sure. There was more elegance to it than two people rutting like animals, the need was less of the body if no less basic; it was of the spirit: two lonely people finding joy in the arms of someone who understood what it was to face the nights alone and the days in a crowd but always apart. That was what they were: two people who understood each other.

"How is everyone this morning?" he asked as he sat down at the table.

"Great!" Su shouted between bites. She leapt from her seat and ran across the table to hand him a banana. "Happy Valentines Day!"

Keitaro stared at the banana. "What's this?"

"Your gift," Su replied, thrusting it into his hands. She did a back flip, landed square in her seat, and resumed eating.

Keitaro was touched. For the first time in his life, someone had remembered him on Valentines Day. It wasn't chocolate, but still.

Kitsune shrugged. "Well, since Su's got the ball rolling." She got up from her seat, revealing a small red package, which she handed to Keitaro with a smile. "Happy Valentines Day, Mr. Manager."

Chocolate? From Kitsune? Keitaro felt as if the world were tilting off its access as he goggled at the first thing Kitsune had ever given him other than trouble. The only thing stranger than getting chocolate from her was getting it from Motoko.

"Here, Urashima."

It was official, the end of the world was coming. That was the only explanation for the small package of chocolate in Motoko's hand.

"You're staring, Urashima," Motoko placed the chocolate on table in front of him and took her seat after a quick bow.

"Thank you," he stammered. He looked at Motoko as if seeing her for the first time. Could it be that she saw him as more than a cockroach? It was only giri choco, but no one bought it for people they hated outright.

Naru went next, handing him a package identical to Kitsune's. They had probably purchased them together. She wished him a happy Valentines and sat down without another word. That just left…

Keitaro's teeth were on edge when Shinobu got up, looking ready to bolt. Why did she have to look so serious? Whenever he saw anguish in those blue eyes, he saw Ritsuko and felt his dormant shame grow anew. She shuffled towards his seat.

"Please accept my feelings," she said in such a hush he had to strain to hear it.

He looked at the simple box. There was no label. He opened up the box and looked at the simple chocolates inside.

"Are," he looked at her in shocked wonder, "Are these homemade?"

Shinobu nodded without looking at him.

"Yeah," Naru said. "She worked on them while we were studying so you wouldn't find out. Hey, are you all right?"

"I…" Keitaro bit his knuckle. "I'm fine." He risked Naru and Motoko's ire by taking Shinobu's hand. "Thank you," he said, meaning every word, "I'll treasure them." Then, he got up from the table amidst Shinobu's stammering, and walked to his room as fast as dignity would allow before he burst into tears. Later on, while rooting through his bag, he will find a catalogue covered in post-it notes: cheeky White Day gift suggestions from Kitsune. When he sees it, he will burst out laughing right in the middle of his cram school lecture and bite his cheeks to keep the giggles at bay while he endures a five minute tongue lashing from his instructor. But that morning, he would go on crying silent sobs until Naru knocked on his door to remind him they have to leave. Not out of shame, but because he finally realised that Christmas was not an anomaly. For the first time in a long time, perhaps the first time in his life, he realised that he wasn't alone. He didn't have to be lonely.


	4. Part 1: Ritsuko, Ch 4 Things Fly Apart

Spring, a time for blooming flowers, nesting birds, and college hopefuls driven to the edge of sanity by months and months of preparation, all to get to that one point: the university entrance exam; the crucible in which they will pour all of their hard work, wishes, and desires to be submitted and examined without mercy by the dispassionate proctors who hold their futures in the palms of their hands. Keitaro had now faced this trial by fire for the third time. He had hoped that repeat exposure would inure him to the nervous pangs that seemed to haunt all but the most assured, but luck had not been with him. So he had trembled and shook all through the exam until the last call came for pencils down; and he emerged from the hall just as the adrenaline gave up. His stomach gave a nauseous turn, so he lurched over onto a bench across from the exam hall doorway, and sat with his head between his legs.

"Hey." Naru nudged his knee. "You look like you're going to be sick."

"Just a little panic attack," he said without looking up. "It's a time honoured tradition."

"Well, come on," she said and dragged him to the cafeteria to get him a coke. The sugar water did its work and Keitaro began to feel his jangled nerves subside. It occurred to him as he looked up, that this was the first time that she had ever bought him a drink. The nerdy, nervous part of him began to wonder how this might look to passing people. Did they look like a couple? Keitaro smiled, happier than expected at the thought. Then he realised that Naru was giggling to herself as she looked off to the side.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"Nothing," Naru said between giggles.

"Then why are you laughing?" he said, beginning to giggle himself.

"I don't know. I've never felt this way before. This relieved. That it's over, I mean." She shook her head, and got up from the table. "I feel like dancing. Dance with me Keitaro."

He scoffed. "Here? Now?"

She giggled again. "Of course here. Don't be such a spoil sport," she said with a pout. "After all those months of accidentally pulling down my skirt, I figured you couldn't wait to get your hands on my body."

Was – Keitaro felt his throat grow dry – was she flirting with him?

She stuck out her tongue, yelling "Spoil sport!" and jogged out the door. He ran after her in time to see her do a small twirl on the concourse. "We're going to make it," she said when he caught up to her. "I can feel it."

Keitaro smiled. There was something infectious about this, the first carefree smile he'd seen on her face since before Christmas.

"Let's go somewhere," he said.

"Where?"

Keitaro shrugged. He'd spoken on the spur of the moment. He offered to take her to lunch, but Naru declined. After sitting in a chair all day, she wanted to stretch her legs. So they found a park and walked along a foot path next to a lake as they watched the boaters rowing past.

"Shinobu's crazy about you, you know?" she said, ending the long companionable silence.

What? Shinobu crazy about _him_? Was she being serious?

"You're kidding."

She gave him a searching look before concluding that, yes, he really was that clueless. "Do you really think girls make chocolates for a guy just because he's her landlord?"

Well, put like that…Why was she even bringing this up?

"No," he said scratching the back of his neck, "but I thought it was just because she liked me as, you know, an older brother."

Naru chuckled. "Boy, Kitsune had you pegged." He really wanted to ask her what that meant, but then she asked, "So what are you getting her for White Day?"

Ah, so that was it. He gave her a knowing look.

"Meaning, what am I getting you for White Day."

"Don't be ridiculous." She stared pointedly out the water.

Nope, he wasn't buying it for a second. Ritsuko had relaxed him enough so that he could at least recognise when Naru was trying to be cagey. Not that it was hard; whenever the subject of their friendship came up, she started acting like Akane Tendo.

Recalling the scene in the cafeteria, he decided that turnabout was fair play. "If you wanted me to give you something, all you had to do was ask."

"Who said anything about me?" she asked, still not looking at him. "I'm just concerned for Shinobu's feelings. That's all."

Not as fun a response as he'd been hoping. Now that he thought about it, he'd have to get working on White Day – though frankly, he was just thrilled to have a reason to participate for a change. He'd need to get obligation gifts for everybody, but Shinobu had made something for him, so it was only right that he respond in kind. Maybe he could make something for everyone and get it all done that way. It wouldn't be hard for a confectioner's son. Maybe some fruit dipped in white chocolate.

Ritsuko. He'd have to get something for Ritsuko too. A perverse shudder filled him as he thought of just what they could get up to with enough chocolate, but just as the fantasy began to get good, he felt Naru rapping on his forehead.

"Hey, what dirty little thoughts are you thinking in there?"

"Just trying to decide what your White Day gift should be," he replied. That ought to appease her.

"Oh." She started playing with her fingers. "You don't have to go much trouble. It's not like we're a couple or anything."

He shook his head as his Akane showed her blushing side. "No trouble. Hey," he asked on a whim, "do you like strawberries?"

Naru blinked. "Strawberries? Sure. Why?"

"You'll see."

* * *

They didn't have a double boiler; no problem; a bowl over a pot of water, a little heat and the chocolate melted just fine. Keitaro smiled to himself as he turned from the stove to the container of strawberries on the kitchen table. A quick wash and de-stemming, then a dip in the white chocolate, and – once the shell hardened – he could begin the decorations.

He snapped his fingers and pointed over his shoulder. "Touch that chocolate and I'll triple your rent, Kitsune."

Kitsune pouted, finger poised over the pot. "Stingy. So this is your big surprise?"

"It would have been," he said, slicing the stems off with a paring knife, "if you had stayed out of the kitchen like I asked."

"What, and miss you being all domestic and cute in that apron of yours?" She asked, leaning against the counter and crossing her arms. "You'll make someone a fine wife one day, Mr. Manager."

Keitaro dropped the prepared berries into a bowl. "Thank you," he said, ignoring the jab at his masculinity. "You're still not getting any."

She leapt from her perch and crushed herself against his arm. "Not even if I say please?" she asked in a baby voice.

Keitaro cast a frantic look at the door in fear that Naru or Motoko might happen upon the scene and send him flying. No one in sight. His head knew to get back to work, but his hips had other ideas.

"All right," he said with a world weary groan, "but it's coming out of your share."

Kitsune clapped her hands with a happy squeal.

He shook his head. "And don't go bragging about it, or I'll institute an alcohol ban on the premises."

She scowled. "Damn. I think I'm rubbing off on you."

"If you brag, they'll all be lining up, with Su first in line. You swear?"

Kitsune pantomimed zipping her lips, locking it, and throwing away the key.

Keitaro smiled and grabbed a strawberry. "Let the record reflect that the subject has duly sworn."

He dipped the berry into the white chocolate and held it in midair, waiting for the excess to run off.

"It'll take a little while to harden."

She shook her head. "I prefer them this way." She seized his hand, guided the berry to her lips, and took a healthy bite. Keitaro suppressed a shudder as she moaned and licked her lips. Damned tease. She swallowed the last of her snack and smirked. "Yep, you can stay, Mr. Manager," she called giving him a swat on the rear as she left.

One day, Keitaro swore, one day he'd be the one to get one over her and be sober enough to enjoy it.

He sought succour in his work and before long he set the tray of strawberries to cool in the fridge. Just then, he heard a knock at the front door and went to answer it. When he opened the door he froze in shook. Ritsuko was standing on the other side with a grim expression. A stammered "hello" was all Keitaro could manage as fear and confusion grappled. What was she doing here?

"Hello again, Mr. Urashima," Ritsuko said with great formality. "I've come to speak to my daughter."

Shinobu! Of course. Keitaro rolled his eyes at his fear as he led her inside to the sitting room, and left to find Shinobu. He found her doing homework in her room. She was surprised to hear that her mother was there.

"Why didn't she call?" the little chef wondered aloud as they walked downstairs together.

Keitaro shrugged. It had been over a week since he'd last met with Ritsuko, and she hadn't even intimated coming for a visit.

Shinobu greeted her mother with a smile and a hug and sat down next to her.

"I'll leave you to it," Keitaro said, turning to leave.

"Wait, Mr. Urashima." Ritsuko cleared her throat. "As Shinobu's landlord, this news concerns you as well."

That sounded ominous. Keitaro took a seat across from mother and daughter, and awaited what he was sure would be bad news.

"Shinobu," her mother said, "I've come here because there's something you should know that I couldn't say over the telephone."

"What is it?" Shinobu asked, tensing up. Keitaro grimaced. Even after all these months, the poor thing still expected the worst.

Ritsuko looked at her knees and took a deep breath. "I'm moving in with your grandmother Shinobu. I'm afraid things haven't been going as well as I hoped, and I'll have to leave Hinata for a while."

What she said after that never even entered Keitaro's ears. Leaving, Ritsuko was leaving. Not just her daughter, but him too. Why else would she ask him to hear this? No, she was one of the best parts of his life. She couldn't be leaving him.

"Pardon me for asking," he said with forced casual interest, "but just where is it you'll be living. So we know where to call in case of extraordinary circumstances."

"Nara," Shinobu said. She had grabbed hold of her mother's sleeve.

Nara? That was almost a four hour trip by train! Keitaro felt sick as he watched Ritsuko explain particulars to her daughter. It was really over, wasn't it? There was no way they could continue seeing each other if she was that far away.

He thanked her and made an excuse about making tea before retreating to the kitchen. He put the kettle on and took deep breaths as he stared into space. He wanted to cry. It just wasn't fair. Why, now when everything was finally starting to work out, was she disappearing from his life?

"Mr. Urashima?" Ritsuko was standing in the doorway.

Keitaro looked at his shoes. There were so many things he wanted say, but he couldn't allow any of them to be overheard. "Ms…I'm sorry, I just realised that in all this time I never asked your last name."

"Otonashi."

He forced a smile. "What can I do for you, Ms. Otonashi?"

She stepped in front of him, just close enough to still be in the bounds of propriety. "I wanted to thank you for looking after my daughter the way you have these past months." She risked grasping his hand. "It's meant more than you'll ever know."

Keitaro swallowed as he watched the movements of her lips, longing to trace them with his own. "I appreciate that, Ma'am. I'll continue to do my best. We all will."

"You have to know that I wouldn't leave…my daughter this way if I had a choice."

His eyes scoped the room for any signs of eavesdropping before squeezing her hand. "It must be hard." He let her go and went to the fridge to remove the tray of strawberries. He put several in a container and presented them to her.

"What are these?" she asked.

"Call it a parting gift. I made them myself."

Ritsuko stared at him, at the package. She looked round the room and grabbed his hand, bringing to her cheek. "Thank you." Her eyes glistened as she kissed his palm. "Thank you so much." Then she seemed to come back to herself, and pulled away.

"Go be with your daughter," he said, aching to hold her. "She needs you."

"You're right, Mr. Urashima." She bowed. "Thank you again."

Keitaro watched them go. Then he made tea and presented it to Ritsuko and Shinobu in the living room.

"Where are you going?" Naru called as he put on his shoes in the foyer.

"Out for a walk."

He walked an aimless path through the streets, seeing and hearing nothing. When he got back, Ritsuko would be gone – his fists clenched – probably forever. It just wasn't fair. He punched a drainpipe and winced as the pipe cut into his knuckle. He sucked on the bleeding wound.

Damn it all to hell.

* * *

The exam results had been posted. This was the day he would met his destiny. His heart had thundered in his chest as Naru and he pushed through the crowd. 110346, if that number was there then he would finally have achieved his dream. Tokyo U would be his, his promised girl within reach. Naru would be in reach. In the last week, the circles they had been making around each other seemed to be tightening. She smiled when she saw him and more often in general. She also seemed to be more relaxed around him now, and he with her. They'd been getting closer ever since Christmas, and her hands had lingered a little longer than necessary over his when her gave her White Day gift. She was less conscious of what she did or how she sat when they were alone together. In fact, he wondered if she hadn't meant for him to look at her legs those last few times around the kotatsu. A few months ago, he wouldn't have noticed; would have been too nervous to even acknowledge it in his mind. But now that he could see it, God she could be cute when she wanted to be.

Naru worried her lip as she sought her number on the board. She had a promise too, didn't she? She'd said as much one night while they were studying. Could she be the girl from that sandbox all those years ago? He shook his head. The idea was almost too fantastic to be credited: the same girl, under the same roof after fifteen years? They didn't make coincidences that long. And yet, as he thought about it, he realised that he wanted Naru to be that little girl. Things had been so lonely ever since Ritsuko's last visit. He dreamed about her some nights: warm, sultry dreams about going to her apartment again that ended just as things became passionate, leaving him alone and frustrated. Naru had been a Godsend these past few weeks, talking him out of solitary funks that she didn't understand. It would be so easy to fall in love with her, to fall for the girl who was fast becoming his best friend.

Now, though, he had to find his number. 110254, 110312, 110321, 110339…110348. He felt as if he'd been punched in the stomach. Failed…Again! How was this possible? All around, him people were cheering as they found their numbers, found their destiny. It made him want to throw up. Not again, God damn it, not again. He'd worked so hard, the hardest he'd ever worked on anything, and still he was denied. Why? What had he done wrong to deserve this fate? He fought to keep from sinking to his knees as the vision of his promise girl faded even further. He couldn't look over, couldn't bear to see Naru's shining face as she found her destiny on that board; but he forced himself. Once he got over the perfunctory congratulations, he could find some hole to die in.

Naru wasn't there. Where could she have gone? He searched right and left, but could find no sign of her in the crowd. It wasn't until he pushed through the people to get a better look that he saw her running down the concourse. A sense of déjà vu passed over him and his gave chase calling her name. Naru was better at running in heels than Ritsuko, so Keitaro was forced to call on his reserves to make up the extra ground. Christ, he was out of shape. He called out her name again, but she just kept running.

"Damn it, wait!" He broke into a sprint. She was only a few feet away now.

"Stay away from me!"

"Why? Talk to me!"

He lunged forward and caught her sleeve.

"No!" She struggled against him, but he held fast. She pivoted on her heel and slapped him hard across the cheek.

He recoiled, clutching his stinging face as his eyes teared up. "What the hell, Naru!"

"Stay away from me," she screamed heedless of passersby. "You disgust me. I can't stand the sight of you."

"Disgust you?" Was she angry at him because he failed? Hurt lanced through him. Wait, how could she have known? She didn't have his number.

"Yes, you and your weak-minded, wishy-washy work ethic. I've had to carry you every step of the way."

Rage flickered red around Keitaro's eyes. People were stopping to stare, but he didn't care. "Carry me? I've worked just as hard as you. What do you care anyway?"

"No, it had to be you. How else could this have happened to me? How else could I…I…"

In one horrible instant, he knew what she couldn't say. "You failed too?"

"Don't say it!" Hysterical tears were streaming down her face now. "I can't stand it. Especially from you."

He felt tears run down his cheeks. All that work for nothing, for both of them. He reached out to her. "Naru."

She slapped his hand away. "Don't touch me. I can't stand your hands on me. I hate you!"

Cold filled him, flooded from his heart to the tips of his fingers.

"Fine."

He turned and walked away. He broke into a run after a block. He had to see her. He remembered nothing of the journey, only felt thankful for the growing rain that camouflaged his tears. He got off the train, ran from the station to the familiar building and up the stairs. He fairly flung himself at the door and pounded on it. She had to be there.

A man with a rumpled white shirt and tie answered the door, opening it a crack. When he took in the sight of Keitaro on the other side, his eyes narrowed in wary confusion. "Yes?"

"Ritsuko Maeh…No, Ritsuko Otonashi."

"Don't know her."

"The woman who lives here." She couldn't be gone already.

"Oh, you mean the woman who used to live here. She's been gone for over week since I moved in here. Didn't she tell you she was moving?"

Keitaro felt the bottom drop out of his world. "She did," he said in a hollow voice, "I just didn't know it was so soon." He turned to go. There was nothing for him here.

"Are you all right?" the man called.

"Not even close."

He made it to the bottom of the stairs before his knees caved beneath him. He wept, heartbroken, on that step as the rain soaked into every part of him. Tokyo U, Naru, Ritsuko, it was all in ashes now. He had nothing left.

End of Part 1.


End file.
